Perusing Zombie; Tod

The last time I ever talked to my old neighbor Tod he threw himself through his own kitchen window, and had his mother been much younger and up to the physicality, I’m half sure she would’ve smitten him for ruining her Chinas and all the other dishes on the countertop. The box of cookies he tried to hand me sat upside-down on the grass where he began his run-up into the house. How I wanted those cookies. Plenty of times from years present and even earlier Tow would come home from grocery shopping and have a box of M&M cookies specifically for me to have whenever he’d catch me outside. My parents preventing me from accepting any of his cookies when it came to attention that Tod was a much active drug addict. Thus, on the fateful day of the jump through the window, the box rested not in my arms and on my tongue but on the grass, ever so in view.

After this interaction, though not because of it, my parents moved us out of that 850 foot house and into an apartment building about two hours away, where we continued to keep in touch with our grandparents but gained no new information about Tod. His mother was an elderly lady of around seventy years old, Tod being thirty or forty, and her knowledge and consumption of the internet was limited to absolutely nothing.

My grandparents, who lived only a block north of our old place, expected us to call every Sunday afternoon as a family immediately following supper, and of course they would call every now and then to check up on us, especially on my younger siblings, and ask about school and tell funny jokes they’d heard in the paper. I loved hearing my grandpa tell some Garfield jokes over the phone and ask if I remembered the times he’d take me to school and even once or twice pick me up. I remembered every instance fondly. I liked when my grandma would complain about the kids she’d have to ‘babysit’ as a substitute teacher and talk to me in a strange way because I knew what everyone else must be thinking. ‘Oh boy, what a lovely lady!’ Spoken in a sarcastic solitude. And of course, talking to my uncles about sports, if I had seen them, what I thought about the world cup and who I expected to win, if I watched WWE or golf or even college football. It was like I never moved.

One day my grandpa called me while my grandma was out at the temple around an hour away. It was Saturday at noon which meant lunchtime for him. I could hear him eating on the other end as we called, but I didn’t mention it. My grandpa is the nicest man I’ve ever known.

“Hey there, Yousuf.”

“Hey grandpa!”

“How’s your school going?”

“It’s going pretty good. We’re just getting started on reading a new book about an immigrant from Vietnam.”

“That sounds like an interesting book,” he responded. He had fought in Vietnam as a part of the Navy.

“Yeah. How’ve you been?”

“Oh, well, I’ve been alright. I did wanna ask you something about your neighbors when you lived here.”

“Which ones?” I asked.

“The man and his mother that you lived right next to. The Doyles.”

“What about them?”

“Well, is the man some kind of a zombie?” He laughed.

“I don’t think he’s a zombie,” I said, caught slightly off-guard. “I know my mom and dad say he’s addicted to something.”

“You mean he has some kind of a drinking problem?”

“No, I don’t think he has a drinking problem. I think that it’s drugs he’s addicted to.”

“Oh, I see now,” he said, chuckling. “Do you know his name?”

“Yeah, his name’s Tod.”

“Tod, huh? Well, he sure scared the neighbors and me last night. He must’ve walked up to our block last night with his arms outstretched and talking all silly, and the neighbors across the street from us saw him and asked if he needed help or directions or anything and, well, he just started cursin’ and cursin’.”

“That’s so weird,” I said. “That is like a zombie.”

“I know it. Those neighbor guys sure went back in quick.” He was laughing again, and this time I laughed too.

“Well,” he said, “that’s all I wanted to trouble you for. I’m glad you’re doing well and I hope you continue to do well with your schooling and your duties. And please call me whenever you’d like.”

“Okay, grandpa. I will.”

We said our ‘I love you’s’ and I hung up the phone. The air outside was hot and humid, otherwise I’d go out and play. Calling grandpa always gave me a huge burst of energy. I sat in bed instead, wondering for some time if I would ever see Tod again, and what state he would be in if I did, and I have this to say:

I hope to see Tod again someday, on a day when my parents won’t have to worry about what may be in the box of M&M cookies.